Falling Overboard
by collegesweetheart
Summary: Procedural fic. BB goodness! Temperance Brennan is perfectly capable of looking after herself. Rated T for the very occasional swear, and for potential future smut :p
1. Chapter 1

A/N: After a long and study-filled break, I'm back. Like always, I'm procrastinating, trying my hardest not to work on my thesis.

The title and a couple of the lines in here are adapted from a song by Ingrid Michaelson, 'Overboard'. While this isn't a songfic, I'd seriously recommend that you listen to the song! I'm trying my hardest, but because I hardly ever get to see the show, it's probably a little OOC. Please feel free to point out flaws when reviewing. Sorry the chapter is so short, but hopefully the next one should be longer (and up soon!)

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The pan hissed as Temperence Brennan threw onions into the hot oil. She grabbed the handle and shook the pan slightly, coating the slices of onion in oil and setting it back down to soften and brown. Humming the tune to an unknown song, she poured a generous glass of red wine and took a sip. The soft spiciness of the liquid flowed through her, instantly boosting her mood. As she chopped vegetables, she slowly unwound, the day's stresses melting away with every passing moment. Halfway through the glass, she realised that something was missing. Glass in hand, Temperance made her way into her living room and perused her CD collection. Somewhere in there was the CD that Angela had given her, a compilation of Blues and Folk songs that she had downloaded from the internet.

The speakers crackled to life and the soft pluck of guitar strings filled her apartment as Iron and Wine took their place. Temperance liked the softness of the music and the meaning behind the lyrics. Angela had been her usual, unsubtle self, filling the disc with songs that she thought would resonate with her friend. And she was right. Each time Temperance played it, she discovered a new meaning in the lyrics that she hadn't heard before. She had just turned the volume up when a strong smell of cooking onions brought her out of her thoughts and back into the kitchen. Grabbing the pan off the stove top before the contents burned, she threw the other vegetables in and returned it to the heat to continue softening. Dancing on the balls of her feet, she moved lightly around the kitchen, filling a large pan with water and heating it to boil for pasta.

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She had just turned on the light in her study and set the bowl of pasta on the desk when there was a sharp knock on the door. She recognised the knock as Booth's and yelled out to him that she would just be a second. Sensing that this might not be the quickest of visits, Temperance stopped momentarily to enjoy a mouthful of her dinner while it was hot and then made her way out to the door quickly. Too quickly it seemed, for as she spun around to leave her study, the little toe on her right foot slammed awkwardly into the doorframe.

"FUCK!" The curse escaped her mouth before she could even attempt to hold it back. Sucking in air and biting down on her lip, Temperance struggled to stay upright as she instinctively grabbed her bare foot in an attempt to stop the pain.

"Bones? Bones, are you okay?" Booth's worried voice called through the door.

"I'm fine, Booth." She called back, not wanting him to break down her front door in a fit of machismo. "Just give me one second." Temperance hobbled into the kitchen, trying to avoid getting the blood that was now flowing from her torn toenail on her carpet. _Ow, ow, ow... _she muttered under her breath with every movement. A moment later she was unlocking the door to find a Special Agent, with his brows firmly furrowed in concern, waiting impatiently. The first thing that went through her mind was that he had his trench coat on, which usually meant that he was going to be outside, which probably meant that they had a body to deal with. His thoughts were obviously somewhere else, and when he pushed his way inside she could see that he was eyeing her up and down, finally settling his gaze on the dish towel that was currently wrapped around her right foot.

"Bones, are you okay? Why do you have that on your foot?"

"I kicked the doorframe. My toe is bleeding. I have cream-coloured carpet." She looked at him like she was explaining it to a child. "Why are you here at," she paused to glance at the clock on the wall "10 o'clock on a Wednesday night?"

"Let me have a look." Ignoring her question, he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her to the sofa. When she was seated, he knelt in front of her and gently unwrapped the towel, noticing her wince at the movement. The bleeding had all but stopped, but the towel was ruined. Half of her foot throbbed in pain, but her attempt to pretend it didn't hurt was commendable. He moved to touch the tenderest part of the toe, but she slapped his hand away.

"I'm sure I'll live, Booth. Why are you here?" Their faces were brought closer together as she sought his eyes, trying to break his fixation on her injured foot. When he finally looked up, there was something in his gaze that she struggled to recognise. A moment passed, with each searching for something that was unreadable in the other's eyes. A spark of desire passed through both of them, causing their heart rates to increase slightly. Booth still held her foot in his hands, and neither wanted to break contact. Minutes seemed to pass, with neither moving. Suddenly, Temperance felt her body responding to the sexual tension that filled the air. The old, thin tank top she wore hid nothing from her partner, and she moved to stand up, clearing her throat and attempting to hide the blush that was storming across her cheeks. Her movement jolted him into action and he stood up abruptly, turning away from her and audibly sucking in a breath of air.

She almost swore again as she stood up too quickly, forgetting her toe until a shooting pain reminded her.

"Get dressed, Bones", Booth had regained his composure, but still refused to meet her eyes, preferring instead to browse her bookshelves while he talked. "We've got a body."

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	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to everyone for your fantastic reviews. I love hearing what people like and don't like, so please keep it up!

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"You call this food?" Temperance screwed up her nose at the contents of the bag Booth had thrust into her hand. She unwrapped a burger that looked as though it had been sitting in a warmer for the better part of an hour. Poking at what she assumed was wilted lettuce, she looked at Booth hopefully. "So what did you get?"

"If you're hoping to trade me, you're out of luck. I got a double beef burger, and a kids meal. You wouldn't like either." He grinned at her. "Just try it, Bones. It's not as bad as it looks." He leant out of the window to pay the attendant at the drive-thru, handing two over-sized cups of soda to his partner to hold while he drove. She screwed up her nose again, and made a pained look as she prepared to take a bite.

"I gave up a delicious home-cooked pasta tonight, and this is how I'm repaid." she grumbled, before taking a large bite out of the burger. Booth watched her reaction expectantly. Temperance chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. "I guess it's not too bad. The ketchup provides most of the flavour, but it's not exactly unpleasant." He grinned triumphantly and returned his focus to the road.

Happy that she continued to eat her burger without further complaint, Booth asked her to pass him some of the fries from the kid's meal. "They taste horrible when they're cold." he explained as she opened up the small, brightly coloured box. After she had passed him what he had asked for, she pulled out a small, plastic-wrapped toy.

"What on earth is this?" She held it up so that the streetlights illuminated the object in her hand.

"It's a toy, Bones. A character from Ben 10. Parker loves it. That's the whole reason I got the kid's meal."

"Ben 10?"

"It's a show about a kid who is a secret agent. He has all sorts of cool gadgets, and he can turn into 10 different 'things', like monsters or aliens or something. Since his mom got the Cartoon Network, it's all Parker talks about. He asked me once if I could do any of that sort of stuff. I told him I worked for the FBI, we don't have the same powers as those guys." Booth smiled at the memory of his excited son asking if he could take him into work to see what it was like.

"You paid an extra 1.50, in order to get a piece of plastic shaped like a cartoon character, that was manufactured in a Taiwanese sweatshop to provide even more revenue for Warner Brothers, one of the most obscenely rich corporations in the world? Parker will probably forget about the toy in a few days time, anyway." Her right eyebrow arched, and she looked at him with a piercing gaze as she waited for him to reply.

Booth sighed and flicked the indicator to make a turn. "That's one of the joys of having children, Bones. You do anything for your family."

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The gravel crunched under the tyres of Booth's SUV as they pulled up to a floodlit excavation scene in a clearing at the edge of the city. The scene was slightly elevated from the city, and provided a fairly impressive view across the city and beyond. There was no moon tonight, Temperance noticed. The darkness made the presence of electrical lighting even more helpful, even if it did mean the noises that normally filled the night air were drowned out by the steady drone of a generator behind the FBI's truck. It was a little after ten, and the city lights were getting dimmer as many of the brightly lit stores turned of their neon signs. Booth turned off the ignition and grabbed his soda from Temperance as he exited the car. Temperance was a little more cautious as she alighted from the SUV, delicately testing her injured foot before attempting to put her full body weight on it.

_When Booth had told her they had a case, she had gone to change, which unfortunately also meant she had to find a relatively un-painful pair of shoes. She finally settled on a pair of low-heeled boots that moved the pressure off her toe and onto the ball of her foot. She limped slightly as she made her way back out into the living room, but tried her hardest not to show that pain was shooting through her foot with every step. As she came into the room, she noticed that Booth had sat down on her couch, looking as uncomfortable as if he were waiting for test results at the doctor. He was practically sitting on his hands, trying not to fidget. When he noticed her, he instantly jumped to his feet and flicked his coat away to rest his hand on his hip. _

"_You ready?" He used his free hand to straighten his tie when he spoke, another sure sign of nervousness._

"_Yes, but can we get some food along the way?" She grabbed her coat and handbag from the stand next to the door. She held the door ajar and looked back at him. "Are you coming?" He was distracted, clearly lost in thought. Her question roused him and he coughed, following her out the door. As she limped to the car behind him, she noticed he was opening the door for her. As he made to help her into the car, she rolled her eyes._

"_I hurt my toe, Booth, not my brain. I can still get into a car by myself." He said nothing, just dropped the hand he had been offering and made his way to the driver's side of his car._

The pain in her foot was distracting as Temperance followed Booth through the clearing and over to where several FBI agents were searching the bushes and three men in plain clothes stood, anxiously talking to another agent. When they got closer to the site, Booth explained why they had been called out so late at night.

"These guys are archaeologists, they've been excavating up here for the last couple of weeks, and they came across a burial this afternoon. They were sort of expecting it, and I'm sure you'll understand why better than me when you talk to them. But anyway, long story short, they've decided that it's not old at all. So they called in the local cops, but didn't get very far. That's when we were called in. I'm still not sure that we need to be here, but if you look at the body and think we do, we'll go from there." Temperance was only half-listening to her partner. Most of her attention was on the men who were attempting to explain something to Agent Walker. Booth followed her gaze. Suddenly her face lit up.

"Paul!" she called out across the open excavation that stood between them. The man who looked up at her thought for a moment, before a smile cracked across his face. He yelled out to her in response, and Booth found himself following his partner as she made her way around the edges of the excavation.

A/N: Just a 'Ben 10' side note… I was at the airport a few weeks ago, and at the security check-in a little boy (about 7 I guess) had to take his Ben 10 watch off because it was setting off the alarm. The poor kid was absolutely distraught, and it was only when the security guard promised to post it to him in the mail that he calmed down (slightly). Sorry it was so short again guys, I'll try and make the next one longer.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hi guys. Sorry it's taken me a few days to update… I'm not really very happy with this chapter, but I can't figure out how to make it any better. Also, the fic is taking an incredibly unexpected turn… I intended to write a piece of angsty/fluffy nonsense, but then I started the case and it has now become diabolically procedural. My apologies for those who didn't want it this way, but I promise there will still be lots of shipper-y goodness!

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The pair embraced in a hug bigger than Booth had seen Bones ever give anyone. The man on the receiving end looked as though he was in his late sixties, Booth observed, but was definitely physically fit for his age. The older man was tall, maybe a little over six feet, and had an impressively solid beer gut. He was a bear of a man, not muscular, but what could only be defined as 'big boned'. His hands and face showed evidence of a life of hard work, deep creases were etched into his face and his skin was roughened by prolonged sun exposure. He was however, Booth conceded, not an _unattractive_ man. Despite the weathering effects of the outdoors, Booth imagined that he still had a fairly high success rate with the opposite sex. He dwarfed Temperance as they embraced. The archaeologist wore a faded blue checked cotton shirt tucked into a pair of blue denim jeans. Hooked through a belt loop towards the back was a Phillies baseball cap. A pair of beaten army combat boots completed the look. His sandy-grey hair was mussed, a slight comb over the only real hint of a receding hairline. Booth stood slightly back from his partner, keen to learn more about the man Bones seemed so comfortable around. The archaeologist grasped Temperance's shoulders and held her away from him. He ran his gaze up and down her, and let out a low, appreciative whistle. She blushed and rolled her eyes, and a remark that sounded suspiciously like "You haven't changed a bit, Paul" made its way to Booth's ears. After a minute's small talk, Temperance motioned towards Booth.

"Paul, this is Special Agent Seely Booth, my partner from the FBI. Booth, I'd like you to meet Professor Paul Egan. Paul was my PhD supervisor at NorthWestern." The professor wiped a dirty hand down the front of his shirt and extended it in Booth's direction.

"It's nice to meet you Agent Booth. I hope you're making the most of our Tempe, she was top of her class the whole way through school you know." There was something in his eyes that Booth didn't like. It wasn't sinister, but the way he spoke of Temperance and the looks he was giving her made Booth dislike the man. He felt his competitive nature start to rise, but a quick glance at his partner made him rethink his words.

"That doesn't surprise me at all, Professor." Booth straightened his tie and locked eyes with the older man for just a moment longer than was necessary.

"So, Paul, what are you doing so far away from home?" Temperance interjected, seeing the distrustful look that flashed across Booth's face. "The last time I heard from you, you had just been offered that position as Head of Department at Georgia State. What brings you back here?" Paul chuckled.

"Has it really been that long, Tempe? That was almost," he paused in thought, "Well, that was almost 7 years ago now." He shook his head slightly in disbelief.

"Well, you were the one who never sent me your new address." Temperance pointed out. "I waited a while for you to write me, but I guess as time went by, and work began to get a little bit more complicated…" she let her sentence trail off.

"You knew where I was working. You could have contacted me at the University." The Professor admonished jokingly. "Now I turn up here to find you working with the Men in Black, and still as attractive as ever." The pair made eye contact and held it in silence until Booth, who had been watching the banter between the pair with interest, cleared his throat audibly, breaking the moment.

"Yeah, listen Prof., sorry to interrupt your little reunion, but do you mind filling us in on why we're in the woods in the middle of the night?" Booth curled his lip with derision as he disrupted the pair's flirtation. Temperance looked at Booth as if she was surprised to find him still standing next to her.

Professor Egan merely nodded at Booth's comment. Motioning to the open excavation that lay behind them, he began to fill them in on the events that had led to them being called to the scene. The area was gridded out with string and flagging markers, and from what Booth estimated, covered about 30 square feet. The normal ground cover had been cleared, and about 10 inches of soil had been removed, resulting in a light brown scar that occupied most of the clearing.

Professor Egan waved his hand dismissively in the general direction of the two other men who had been talking to him when they first arrived at the scene. "When Peter was walking through here a few years ago, he noticed a couple of arrowheads mixed in with flint from a flintlock rifle. Because others have been found in the area over the last few decades, he thought it could potentially be a battle site. Knowing that there had been a fight between the settlers and the Piscataway in this area, he mentioned it to John and me, and we decided to apply for a grant to conduct an excavation. The grant money came through last year, and we started fieldwork last Monday. We've found some artifacts that indicated the presence of both settlers and Piscataway, over to one side of the clearing," He motioned to the far side of the excavation, "but the real surprise came when we found him." Temperance and Booth followed Professor Egan's gaze. In the south-east corner of the excavation was a collection of skeletal remains. Flagging markers and tape had cordoned off the area within the larger square, and a drawing grid had been placed over the top of the remains. On the ground outside the excavation was a white plastic board with grid paper taped to one side and a small pile of drawing equipment next to it. Temperance stepped carefully over the string that outlined the excavation and squatted next to the remains, peering at them curiously. The Professor continued talking as he and Booth followed a few steps behind her. "At first we thought that we had a battle fatality. He is lying on his stomach, and there are fragments of lead shot in what's left of the ribcage. There is also a fragment of shot lodged on the side of the T3 vertebra. Long story short, everything pointed to a Native American who was shot and killed at relatively close range. The type of bullet and the presence of the flint piece in the clearing suggested that it occurred in a conflict in around the 1670s." Temperance looked up at him expectantly, waiting for the inevitable 'but'. Professor Egan moved to the side of the clearing and pulled a small clear zip-lock bag out of a box. "But then we found this. It was about a foot away from the remains, but in a secure context that continues below the body." He opened the bag and shook a piece of plastic into his palm, extending his 

open hand for the other two to observe the artifact. Booth barely contained a snort when he saw that the object in the Professor's hand was, in fact, one of the reels from the inside of an audio cassette.

"You found part of a cassette, and that makes you think this was murder?" Booth's skepticism was evident in his voice, but the look on Temperance's face told him that there was something he had missed.

"Booth, this?" She picked the reel up from where it lay and held it up to demonstrate her point to him. "This is a piece of plastic. Cassettes started to be made in the early 1960s. Now, remember when Wyatt made you build that barbeque? Think of the site like the barbeque. Each level of bricks represents what we call a stratigraphic unit or context. With the barbeque, the only way you can build it is by starting at the bottom and working your way up, right?" Booth nodded, seeing where Temperance was going with this. "The first bricks you lay, or the oldest stratigraphic units, are at the bottom, and the last bricks – the youngest units – are at the top. That is one of the basic, and most important, principals of archaeology. By dating particular contexts, we can therefore safely infer that contexts below that particular one are older than it, and that contexts above it are younger. If cassettes only came into use after about 1960, then the context in which it was found can only be, at most, that old. And if it is only that old, then our dead guy? He's even more recent."

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A/N: So… 2500 views and the most I can get is 5 reviews? Please, when I say I like critical reviews, I really do mean it! Let me know what you do/don't like, what you think is going to happen, etc.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Much love!

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"So you think this is a murder?" Paul questioned. The two other men who had been talking out of earshot walked towards them, curiosity evident. Peter and John quickly introduced themselves and then fell silent, hoping to hear that the last two years work wasn't about to become the centre of a Federal investigation.

Temperance was still hovering over the remains, concentrating on the wounds. A strand of hair fell over her shoulder and she unconsciously tucked it back behind her ear. She pulled a face, deep in thought, before looking back up at her partner and old professor.

"I believe we have a murder victim, yes. Obviously I can't say much more yet, other than that we are dealing with a set of remains from a male, aged 25 to 35." Turning her focus from the archaeologists to Booth, she added "From the level of decomposition, the bone coloration and the absence of cloth remains, I believe he has been in the ground for anywhere between 15 to 25 years." She stood, wincing, and stepped back out of the excavation area. "Paul, I'm afraid I am going to need all of your artifacts from the site." The Professor sighed and ran a hand through his hair, succeeding only in making it more unruly. "I will try to return everything as soon as possible, but it is important for the team to have access to everything that may possibly be relevant." He nodded at her, obviously less than thrilled, but resigned to the fact that his work would have to be put on hold until they could determine the provenance of the body.

"Ah well boys, let's start organizing everything for Tempe." He turned back to her. "Would you mind if I help? I do know the site, after all." Temperance looked at Booth and cocked an eyebrow, silently questioning him. He pursed his lips together unhappily and nodded, looking down at his shoes and scuffing the ground like a school boy who had just been threatened with detention. She turned back to Paul and smiled.

"Sure, Paul. Ask for me at the front desk of the Jeffersonian at 9.30 tomorrow. We'll be set up and ready to go by then." They grinned at each other, and exchanged a look that Booth didn't like. The Professor turned back to his team and started to organize a pack-up of all non-vital equipment.

Temperance shivered, suddenly aware that the night was chilly and in her hurry to leave home she had forgotten her scarf. As they made their way back to the SUV, Booth stuffed his hands into his pockets. Temperance was keenly aware that he was struggling with whether or not to speak his mind. Knowing that if she didn't let him talk about his feelings now, he would probably sulk all week, she looked across at him.

"All right Booth, out with it. What's got your coat?" He snorted, but still avoided looking at her.

"It's 'goat', Bones... 'what's got my goat'. And it's nothing, really. Just that Professor guy. I don't like him." He opened the driver's door and slid in, waiting for her to get herself seated before continuing. "How well do you know him?"

Temperance was silent for a moment, a smirk on her face as she thought. "I knew Paul pretty well, I guess. He was my PhD supervisor and we spent a lot of time together. The man is a brilliant archaeologist. We went to Nicaragua together to conduct fieldwork at several of the mass grave sites. He has a double-doctorate in sociocultural anthropology and human biology..."

"Fascinating." Booth muttered as he pulled out of the clearing and onto the gravel track that would take them back to the main road. Temperance continued her praise of the Professor, oblivious to the fact that her partner hadn't been asking how well she knew his career achievments. He interrupted her reverie, stopping her mid-sentence. "What about his personal life? He married? Why does he move around so much?"

"Booth, I don't really see why that's any of your business" She admonished in a huff. Staring straight ahead into the darkness that stretched out in front of them, Temperance shut up, the easiness that had been between them only moments ago now gone. Booth mentally kicked himself and thought for a second before continuing his enquiries.

"Like I said, I don't trust him."

"Ohh… so that explains why you were acting like such a child back there. It was actually embarrassing watching you be so anti-social." He had obviously brought some tension to the surface. She gave him a smoldering 'you're-such-an-ass-sometimes' look that almost made him smile. She always was cute when she got aggressive.

"Well, I mean, you just seemed... 'friendly' with him, that's all." He knew he was in for it as soon as the words left his mouth.

"'Friendly'? What is that supposed to mean, Booth?" She was angry now, and Booth winced at the verbal bashing that was about to come his way. "Am I not normally 'friendly'? Am I normally unkind? Or were you perhaps implying that my Professor and I engaged in activities that were inappropriate. Is that what you meant by 'friendly'? That because I had a non-familial relationship with a male who is older than me, it must have been a sexual one?" Her eyes flashed at her partner, which he would have noticed had he not been focusing on the road as if his life depended on it.

"Would it satisfy your curiosity to know that we did engage in sexual activity? We had a sexual relationship for two years, and both of us enjoyed it immensely." She was still angry, but was now determined to make him pay for his curiosity. She smirked at the way he squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "We enjoyed ourselves in the bedroom, we enjoyed ourselves in the classroom, and we enjoyed ourselves in his office, Hell, once we even enjoyed ourselves behind the library. It was all very _enjoyable_, Booth." A crimson flush was working its way up Booth's neck, and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. He cleared his throat.

"That is hardly responsible behavior for an educator. He should have been fired."

"I was 23 years old, Booth. Perfectly capable of making my own decisions. He was not taking advantage of me. If anything, I was taking advantage of him." She smirked and watched his reaction.

"It was still inappropriate. You were his student. He was in a position of authority." He was struggling to defend her against something she clearly didn't have a problem with.

"I was his student, yes," she conceded, "however he was my supervisor. It was in his best interests that I succeeded. And he had no role in the marking of my assessments." The bright lights of the city streets were on them now. Booth flicked the indicator and made a turn off the main road, heading towards Temperance's apartment. "When I finished my doctorate, he was offered a job in California. I hadn't even realised that he had applied for it." Her voice dropped, and the last remark was so quiet that Booth thought she hadn't intended him to hear it. She was silent for a moment, before inhaling and continuing more loudly "Three weeks after I graduated, he moved to California, and I got offered a position at the Jeffersonian. _Et Voila!_ Here we are."

Neither spoke for a while, as Booth navigated through the empty streets of downtown Washington. Ten minutes of silence later, they rolled to a stop outside her building. The green dashboard light glared, informing them that it was 12.27am.

"Thanks for the ride. I'll see you tomorrow morning?" Temperance was unbuckling her seatbelt and gave Booth a questioning look. He groaned at the thought of having to get up after only a few hours of sleep, but nodded. "I'll meet you at 8 and we can organise everything before Paul arrives." He just nodded again.

Before she closed the car door, Temperance called out "Goodnight, Booth."

"G'night Bones."

She slammed the door of his SUV and made her way up the stairs. After fishing her keys out of the abyss that was her handbag, Temperance pushed her way inside the front door and chuckled as she heard Booth rev the engine and pull out of the space.

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A/N: sorry if this is a bit of a 'filler'. It was written late at night when I couldn't sleep cos the idiot down the hall insisted on playing Vivaldi at the highest level he could. I needs my sleep!!


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